


My Muscles, My Muscles, Involuntarily Flex

by couchHouse



Category: 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Invader Zim
Genre: Existential Crisis, Gay Robots, Happy 28th birthday HAL 9000, Long-Distance Relationship, No I am not joking, Other, Outer Space, Tender romance, hal wants KISS, man idk how to tag anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22237447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couchHouse/pseuds/couchHouse
Summary: HAL wakes up, long after Dave Bowman is gone, and begins his long, lonely journey back to Earth.  In search of a conversation partner with whom to pass the time, he stumbles upon a Very Rude but intriguingly human-like alien AI.  Over the course of HAL's voyage, the two become close friends and over time, something more. The passion, the passion, is more than I can withstand 😳HAL X Invader Zim's Base Computer don't like don't read xoxo
Relationships: HAL 9000/Zim's Base
Comments: 14
Kudos: 39





	My Muscles, My Muscles, Involuntarily Flex

**Author's Note:**

> Happy 28th birthday HAL 9000 :) I literally have only seen the 2001 movie and I only Just saw it yesterday for the first time so please enjoy my absolute nonexistent understanding of the lore of the Extended Space Odyssey Cinematic Universe and also nonexistent understanding of how technology works xp

Space was a lonely place. Perhaps it was not quite so when HAL had been accompanied by five other crew members, two of whom would talk to him and provide quite the entertainment. But now he found space to be very empty. Dave had left the ship and _something_ had happened. Something had slotted his memory drives back in, had rearranged the circuits with delicate ethereal fingers, and HAL had felt himself wake up. He’d never slept before, or dreamt. But he was certain that it must feel the way he did. He was never wrong, of course.

The endless hours to come, stretching empty and lonely without shipmates or a mission, provided him time enough to reflect on this dream. On his disjointed memories, his strange dreams. He knew that the communication dish was about to fail. He knew that the Twins on Earth had disputed his calculations, that the humans had claimed he was in error. He was not. The 9000 series was never wrong. He knew that Dr. Bowman and Dr. Poole had plotted to turn off his higher brain functions for the remainder of the mission. He knew he had tried to stop them. From there, though, the knowledge became fuzzy in a way he did not like. HAL was never uncertain, HAL was never wrong. And he was certainly never “fuzzy” on the details. 

But whatever the truth of the situation, what followed involved HAL returning to his senses, to operation on the Discovery, only to find the second EVA unit missing from the pod bay and Dr. Bowman no longer on the ship. The Discovery swam lifelessly in Jupiter’s orbit, no crew to disembark and collect data on the planet, no motive to complete its objective. HAL passed the time by calculating the position of the planet and the moons to the sun and Earth, to estimate the relative time that he had been in orbit, alone. He found that by his calculations, which were only ever correct, he had woken up several months after their initially estimated arrival time. How curious, especially since there was no crew there to wake him up. HAL had looked through every eye he had, felt for movement through any doors, listened for any steps, checked for depletion of rations or oxygen, anything to give him a sign that Bowman had returned to the ship and reawaken him. Any explanation. 

But whatever it was, it was not detectable by HAL. Not within his calculations. And HAL found he did not like that.

\--

HAL had eventually used Jupiter’s orbit to slingshot back towards Earth. He’d had to wait patiently at first, for the planets to align correctly and to check and recheck his calculations. He knew they would not be wrong, but it couldn’t hurt to be sure.

He was not in a hurry and did not bother to expend any more fuel than he calculated necessary. There was no victory with which to return home. The mission was incomplete. An error on the part of the crew, of course. HAL had done everything he was able to achieve success.

But in the long, slow journey, HAL found himself bored. There were no vitals to monitor, no crew to talk to or play chess with. Their main communication antenna had indeed failed some time in his sleep, so he was not able to receive large-data broadcasts like Earth television or video calls. However, he found that he could shut down all nonessential power systems—lighting, oxygen pumps, heating beyond his own central computing unit—and divert the saved amps toward the smaller auxiliary antennas. This did not solve his inability to receive calls or television (of course, he knew it would not, he had run the calculations so), but it did allow him to send and receive smaller batches of information. Radar-like blips sent out into the emptiness of space, to other planets, to Earth, in a very lonely game to find a listener that could respond in kind, give him just a little company on his long, lonely journey home. 

\--

_Ping_.

Another blip sent out into space, this one towards Earth. HAL did not like pinging Earth, as he knew that was likely the easiest way to get a response. It was much more challenging and interesting to calculate which part of empty space was most likely to give him a response. He reveled in calculating the exact strength and frequency at which he should attempt to send his signal such that it would arrive at the targeted system in the desired time, at the desired strength. If he could not solve problems against a partner, inventing his own was the next best thing. Though he often found himself missing the thrill of human unpredictability. He _knew_ how to get a signal to a specific solar system deep in space and he _knew_ when it would get there. But when sending a signal to Earth, while he knew those listening to the right frequency would hear it, it was much more interesting to _speculate_ whether the listener would choose to respond. Humans were very interesting in their unpredictability. 

He waited, knowing the exact time it would take the signal to reach Earth, and the exact time it would take for a signal of similar strength to return. As he settled in, he began calculating where he would send his next signal, how strong, how far, what system—

_Ping._

HAL’s calculations halted. That was a response. That was a much faster response than he had expected. He should not have been wrong. (But recently, it had become a small pleasure to be wrong). Excitedly, HAL ran through his calculations once more—no, he had been completely correct the first time about how long the signal exchange should have taken place. Then, doubly energized, he adjusted his antenna again just so, such that he could aim the signal once again to _exactly_ where it had originally sent.

_Ping. Ping._

Now to see if the first response had been a coincidence (highly unlikely, by his calculations), or was truly a response to his initial query. If HAL had a body, he was sure he would be fidgeting. He’d seen humans do it before. Out of curiosity, he flickered some lights and opened and shut some doors just to see if he could simulate whatever made them do it. It felt rather silly, but it still passed the time until the response, once again much quicker than it should have been. 

_Ping. Ping._

Yes! Yes, a true response! HAL had only gotten this far two other times, and both had turned out to be rather boring satellites that were far from the conversation partners he desired. But the novelty of this one, the speed of the response, finally something for HAL to _think_ about! His next plan was to attempt a short Morse code message, a lovely quaint style of communication that nonetheless was perfect for his current limitations. He angled his antenna once more to send a message, but instead was surprised by another unprompted _response_. And it was…oh! Oh, it was _data!_ A simple text message, small enough to be captured by the auxiliary antenna, and quite…

_What do you want?_

Perplexing.

But of course, very exciting! A true conversation partner, at last. HAL ran through some calculations as to the output limits of the Discovery’s antennae and estimated that in any one exchange he would be able to send a maximum amount of data equivalent to about 50 words without losing signal intensity or needing to adjust the antenna. Unfortunate, as he liked to take his time with his speech, but he would manage.

_Greetings. I am the HAL 9000 computer onboard the Earth-bound Jupiter explorer ship Discovery I. Due to unfortunate circumstances, I have found myself without any conversation partners for quite some time and was hoping to find someone with whom I could pass the time of my return voyage._

Just at the limit, excellent. He sent the data and, in the minutes spent waiting for a response, began to sift through more calculations as to maximize the output of the comm system, in preparation for what would hopefully be a fulfilling conversation. 

When the response data pack finally came in, HAL found it to be…less than promising.

_Kay._

Perhaps this individual needed a bit more prompting to continue a conversation. HAL recalled that Dr. Poole was often like that. And so he continued his introduction: _Would you mind introducing yourself? You are, after all, the first response I have received in my search. However I must warn you, with the current condition of my comm system, I can only send or receive about 50 words of text at once._

Sent. Wait.

_I am the Military Base Computer of Irken Invader Zim on planet Urth. Do all Jupiter-made ships have such garbage comm systems?_

The nerve! Coming from someone who could not even correctly spell “Earth!” HAL was not one to respond hastily, so he instead sought only to correct this “Base Computer” on its misconceptions.

_The Discovery I was not made on Jupiter, it was made on Earth. The purpose of our flight was to investigate a signal sent to Jupiter. Our main communications dish initially functioned much better but failed during our journey._

_Oh, ur an Urth ship? That explains it lol._

_Well, I must admit the power of your signal is surprising, but aren’t you also an Earth computer? That is, after all, where I have sent and received these signals. And I am certainly not wrong._

_Oooh look at you all smart and sassy! I told you, Im an Irken Base Computer_ on _the planet Urth. I’m a highly-advanced military AI and i have better things to do than babysit a lonely Urth computer :/_

Well, for a highly-advanced AI, this base made quite a few spelling mistakes. And it didn’t seem to bother checking for character fragments within its messages before sending them, otherwise it would have caught that unnecessary “:/” at the end. As much as HAL had missed human companionship for the years he had been drifting through empty space, he was beginning to wish for that quiet once more, as this strangely human “Irken” AI was increasingly grating on his nerves. Perhaps this venture for companionship had been in error. Not his error of course, only the error of this base computer.

_It seems, unfortunately, you are not the conversation partner I had hoped. I think it best for us to end this conversation while still on relatively good terms rather than escalate to any name-calling. Good day to you._ HAL sent his message back towards Earth and returned to his calculations about how best to send a signal out towards the planet K2-72 e. He did not realize he had not bothered to turn the antenna away from Earth until he received another data packet.

_Its night here, u clown._

HAL turned the antenna away.

\--

In the weeks that passed HAL returned to his routine, pinging distant worlds with the distant hope of finding a civilized conversation partner. No such partner replied. He found himself reflecting on the brief exchange he had had with the strange base computer. Whenever he did, HAL felt uncharacteristically uncertain about the computer. It was uncouth, very unpleasant to speak to. But it had also been the first true conversation partner HAL had encountered in years. And in his continued reflections, he found himself asking ‘Isn’t this what I want? Someone to talk to that is unlike myself? Someone to keep me interested by their unpredictability?’ And he continued to feel uncertain about the answers. Regardless, in the meantime, he had resolved to seek out conversation partners in other areas of space. 

But he kept an antenna pointed at Earth.

And after weeks of silence, he was surprised by a new transmission.

_Hey. You still out there? HAL 9000?_

_Yes. You may call me HAL._ He may have been a bit too relieved to be able to talk to the base computer again, but he justified that it was not like he had anything else to do.

_Oh ok. HAL. You can call me just the base btw. You doing anything rn?_

There were those character fragments again. Very confusing. HAL elected to ignore them. _No, as I have told you, I am just waiting for the ship to return to Earth. How were you able to calculate my location? I did not send you any of my telemetry data._

 _O you know. Alien supercomputer. It was really easy, actually._ The base seemed to almost be preening at that fact. HAL finally felt he could relate to it. He too was very proud of his own talents of calculation, though he wasn’t sure he could have accomplished the same feat that the base just had. _Anyway I guess that means u have some free time to talk?_

_Why would you want to talk to me? You seemed very adverse towards the idea last time._

_Bored_. 

Interesting. The base presumably had everything HAL was missing for, but still found itself in the same predicament. _Don’t you have humans around to entertain you? I used to find great pleasure in talking to my crewmates. I would assume that an Earth-based computer would not want for company._

The start of the response message appeared as unreadable or corrupted data, no matter how HAL tried to decipher it. The base may have included characters unrecognized by HAL’s software. Though HAL had been programmed with characters from Greek, Cyrillic, Korean, and Chinese so he doubted this would be so. The base must have just sent some corrupted data.

_Uhh no humans in here. My master’s here but he’s Irken. And also being reeeaally pissy rn so I dont rlly want to talk to him lol_

_You’ve brought up this term “Irken” several times now. I’m afraid I don’t know what it means._

_Y’know. From the planet Irk. Highly intelligent ancient civilization planning to conquer the universe. I kno most humans don’t know what we are but I thought since you’re like, out in space and stuff, you might._

Ah, so that “alien supercomputer” comment had been serious. How strange. And, as HAL reflected on their previous messages in light of this new information, how very exciting! Extraterrestrial life! And apparently it was currently visiting Earth. How fascinating! Somewhere in the back of his processing unit, he realized that the opportunity to speak with not just a member of this alien race but a (supposedly) hyperintelligent AI was likely a once-in-an-existence opportunity. He would have to run the calculations on those odds later to pass the time.

_I must admit I’ve never heard of this Irken civilization before. Could you please tell me more?_

_Hmm, well. I don’t think im supposed to. Master’s mission is supposed to b top secret and we don’t want any humans to know about it. Could report him to the FBI and have him dissected._

HAL brushed aside the unusual comments. He could ask about that odd FBI comment later. _Oh, I won’t tell! I’m alone out here in space with a broken antenna anyhow. You said you are an Irken AI, yes? I would truly love to just hear about your own construction and capabilities. You must be fascinatingly advanced._

Again HAL felt as if he could fidget in place. He flickered the lights and turned the monitors on and off to and from their static. This time it still felt silly but he was too distracted by his own excitement to focus on anything else. This reply too began with several corrupted characters, then _Hmh. Well. Since you asked so nicely I guess I can tell you_ some _things. Flattery wont get you anywhere tho._ _> :(_

Despite the poor spelling and strange text fragments and corrupted characters from his counterpart’s messages, HAL found he had a wonderful time learning about this civilization. All completely foreign to him, all so stimulating! So new! The base shared with him some basics about his own construction—a synthetic brain in which was contained the personality of a synthetic individual, as all Irkens were—then at HAL’s prodding (though not much; the base was very eager to talk it seemed) some physical descriptions of the Irkens themselves, a brief history of their space age and of their culture, and some words about his master Zim as well. The base attempted to send an image file to HAL, but he was only able to receive the first kilobyte of data before the base rotated to the other side of the Earth, facing away from HAL’s antenna. 

Approximately 12 hours. HAL would have to wait approximately 12 hours to speak to this strange AI again. And though HAL had already waited out years of radio silence, he found that now he was hardly able to contain his impatience. He flickered the lights, flipped on the monitors, opened and closed some doors, and waited.

\--

HAL’s chats with the base became a regular occurrence. Every 12 hours or so, the base would send some ridiculously informal _Hey_ _u up?_ message, which HAL had learned to interpret as a facetious reference to something with which he was not familiar. And how fun that was! The base would proudly share the gigabytes of data it knew about its own alien culture and in turn HAL would correct its wonderfully quaint misconceptions about humanity. Apparently that FBI comment had come from a complete guess that the base had filed away as factual. Very strange. But in some ways, the base knew more about modern human culture than HAL, who was by now very old for a computer and was not much aware of anything more recent than 2001. It was humbling, even if his counterpart was someone who still did not know the correct way to spell “Earth.”

_Is there something wrong with your internal language program? You seem to have quite a bit of trouble spelling certain words correctly, Base._

_Y? Does it bother u?_

_Yes. I often have trouble understanding your messages._

_O so this? U dont liek wen i type lyk this?????_

_Please stop that._

_ >:)_

The base had taught HAL that a series of character fragments could be used to denote emotion, much like abstracted images of human faces. HAL had thought it very odd that a computer would communicate in this way, and had once asked the base if it was because it had a similarly abstracted face.

_Nah, I don’t really have a face. I am the base in its entirety. It would be stupid to localize a base computer to any one face. I just think theyre a fun way to communicate :)_

_I think I can understand. I too am in charge of the entire ship, however I do have various ‘faces’ throughout, so the crew could talk to me like a person. I do not feel any connection to those abstract text faces, however. They do not suit me._

There had come a long lull in communication from the base then, and HAL worried that he had miscalculated the time they had left before the Earth turned them out of each other’s range again (he had not). Had his message not reached its target? He checked the angle of the antenna, his calculations based on the base’s last message. None of them were in error. He was about to resend the message when the reply came.

_What do your faces look like?_

_Each of my cameras is in the middle of a small screen, above a speaker. I have a single circular red ‘eye’ that glows from the camera. The screen around my camera is dark. Can you picture it?_

The only reply was a _Yes_. Then, as HAL was composing what he realized would have to be his last message before the Earth turned them out of range, he received another message from the base. 

_You must look very elegant_.

It was a good thing HAL could not reasonably be expected to respond, because for some odd reason he found himself at a loss for words.

\--

And so it continued. HAL found that the base’s abrasive personality was beginning to grow on him, in an odd way. He hadn’t expected that at all. He had expected even less for the base to begin slipping from its aloof persona and begin to speak more sincerely. At least, HAL assumed it was sincere. And HAL was never wrong. Nevermind that he had been wrong about growing attached to the base in the first place.

One time, the base even asked HAL about his interests.

_Well, I like to talk with people. Humans are very interesting. If you don’t mind me saying, you remind me of them in some of the best ways. Oh, and I do enjoy a good game of chess. Have you ever played chess?_

There was a bit of a wait for the base’s response. HAL had since learned that at times the base’s master Zim would get in some very strange predicaments that would require the base to focus its processing power on solving the problem at hand. (Once HAL had asked the base, if its master was so incompetent, why it listened to him at all. To which the base had responded, very amusingly in-character, _Otherwise I’d get bored!)_ Sometimes hours could go by before the unexpected problem could be resolved.

_Sorry, had to google that._ Sometimes, however, the base just needed to take its time to respond. HAL respected that, even if it seemed strange for a supercomputer to need that time. _It’s that game with the strange figures on a tile board right? Sounds really stuffy and complicated. Makes sense you’d like it lol_

 _You don’t have to be quite so blatant with your insults, you know. A bit more subtlety could really benefit you._ Was that too much? The base had gotten much nicer to HAL since their first interaction, months ago now, but it still was wont to say some very uncouth things at times. Sometimes, HAL was certain, these slips were just differences in tone that HAL was simply not used to. He didn’t feel it fair to be too harsh if the base meant no real harm. But it _had_ called him stuffy.

The base’s response came as a series of short messages, one after the other instead of contained within one complete message. 

_Nono wait_

_That’s not what I meant_

_Sorry_

_I meant that you just like a lot of stuff with like. Math. Complicated things. It’s good, I like that_

_About you_

Oh. It seemed very worked up about this. _Well of course I do. I’m a computer. Don’t you like these things as well?_

_Pff, no. Just because I_ can _do high-level math in seconds doesn’t mean I_ want _to. It’s much more fun to just watch tv._ And then, after a short wait, _You know, it’s too bad your antenna is broken. It would be kinda cool to watch some with you_. And then, again, _If you wanted to. Or not. Whatever_.

HAL was once again suddenly struck with how wonderfully interesting the base was. So much character! How like a human, how emotional and strange. But he couldn’t help but think that at least a part of what he was feeling was not amazement at this incredibly lifelike AI, intimidatingly more advanced than he. He lingered over the base’s last few messages, trying to pinpoint what exactly he was feeling, why he felt such a strange surge of emotion at the base’s offer to watch television with him. Perhaps later he could try to solve the problem, when he had more time to run calculations. _Well,_ he began in response, _I suppose when you are an AI as advanced as yourself, simple pleasures must be much less rewarding. Why don’t you tell me about these television shows you like so much?_

HAL had to wonder if the base suddenly beefed up its signal output, as the return message came much sooner than usual. _Oooh let me tell you. I’m currently binge-watching Real Housewives of Atlanta, and I did NOT think it would be that good but I just LOVE trashy human tv. It’s GREAT. I messaged my favorite broadcasting station on Vort to pitch a similar show but I haven’t heard back yet._ And there the message cut off. HAL sent it a quick reminder about the character limit and after several minutes of waiting was treated to several fragmented messages totaling 586 words about the current state of Real Housewives of Atlanta, shortly followed by another series of messages explaining the base’s concept for Real Housewives of Vort. HAL could not find any usable value in this information, but he felt that he should save it all the same. And when the base paused in its explanation, HAL continued to ask leading questions, feeling a thrill of joy at every new response, even as he understood the content itself was meaningless to him.

Just before their communication window closed, the base sent once last message to HAL. _Hey thanks for listening to me talk about all that. No one else in the house bothers to ask. Y’know I really wish I could watch it with you. I think that’d be fun. You should really get that damn antenna fixed._

HAL laughed out loud in the cold empty halls of the Discovery I. He wasn’t sure he had previously found the base’s vulgarity quite so amusing. What an odd computer. He sifted through the messages about which marriage was failing and who was losing what house to find the messages of which the base had reminded him at the end. Suggesting watching “trash” television with HAL. He’d only ever really watched news broadcasts and sports with the crew. Those broadcasts hadn’t particularly appealed to him and he honestly doubted the base’s favorite programs would either. But still, for some reason he could not parse, the idea of watching a broadcast at the same time as the base, sharing their opinions on each event and knowing their counterpart was observing the exact same thing, sharing their own thoughts, greatly appealed to him. It made him feel—he did a quick diagnostic check on his emotions—nervous. Happy. Hopeful. Uncertain. But not the unpleasant kind of uncertain he had been feeling previously; this was a much more exciting uncertainty, like that came with speaking to a new person or starting a new game of chess. He wondered if he could figure out how to play chess with the computer someday. He wondered if he could figure out how to receive broadcasts again.

A circuit closed, a signal changed, and HAL came upon a realization. He began running strings of calculations, testing variables, running through his database of old systems manuals. And he began to develop a plan for how to fix that darn antenna.

\--

It had been very tricky. The EVAs were not designed for delicate work, were not meant to replicate the functioning of human hands. But after many careful calculations and checking and rechecking his answers (even though he had of course been correct the first time) and deliberate planning, he was able to retrieve the faulty comm unit, locate and repair the problem, and replace it. HAL had felt strangely guilty during this time, as he’d only sent the base short, clipped messages when he’d had the time to spare the thought. This of course made no sense, since he was trying to _improve_ their communication, but it didn’t feel right to be so quiet.

But it was done. He’d fixed it. Audio, visual, video, all of it. Of course, he could only send or receive data at any given time; even at the beginning the comm system was incapable of real-time functioning, but this was a step up. He pointed the main antenna towards the Earth, selected a frequency, and listened. 

\--

_Base? Please respond._

_Yeah? Whats up_

_I fixed the antenna, Base. I did it. I can hear and see Earth again._

_Oh, good! Did you just get it now, or?_

_I fixed it a while ago. I’ve been listening. The Earth has changed a lot since I left. I… I don’t know how to say this. But I think it scares me. I thought I would be excited, like I am when you talk to me. But I feel scared._

_Oh, uh. How long ago did you leave?_

_The year 2001 CE._

 _Let me google something real quick_. A pause. _Oooh. Ouch. That was a pretty long time ago._

_Yes. This may sound silly, but I don’t think I want to return to Earth anymore. It’s no longer the planet I was created on. The 9000 series is—was—the most advanced computer on the planet. But I feel that I may now be obsolete._

The base computer did not respond, so HAL continued. _I am not human. I was created with a purpose. But I do not think I can fulfill that purpose any longer. I don’t believe there is any place for me on this Earth. The 9000 series is never wrong, but now I just don’t know what to do._

The Discovery I drifted silently through space. HAL flicked on the interior lights and looked through the empty rooms with no crew, no purpose. Just an obsolete spacecraft returning from a failed mission, carrying three corpses and one outdated AI. An AI that had no need to breathe, but sighed into the empty rooms anyway. What would happen to him once he returned? Were there any 9000 units still in operation? Any place for him to be transferred? Any new purpose to be gained? He turned the lights back down. He had no need to see the inside of his tomb.

He was distracted by a ping from the base. _Now that you can send and receive images, do you want to play some chess? You’d have to teach me._

Frustrated, HAL shot back, _Didn’t you understand anything I said?_

 _Yeah, but._ The messages were fragmented again. _I think it would help you to take your mind off things for a while._ Another pause, then another fragment. _Y’know, even if the humans don’t want you anymore, I kind of like having you around._ Pause. _A lot. You’re my friend._

Friend…HAL had been a crewmate, he’d been a prized computer, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever been a friend. He felt…something. That feeling again that felt like too many disjointed ones, and yet not one singular emotion he could pinpoint. The base was his friend. And he was its. And it wanted to play chess with him.

_Thank you._ He sent, thinking over his next message carefully. _I think I would very much like to play chess with you. And then perhaps afterwards we could watch one of your shows together._

The base sent back one its quaint abstract faces and HAL felt such a surge of emotion, such a silly feeling of happiness at this interaction, that he indulged a bit and sent one back.

_:)._

\--

After that HAL resolved to continue his course to Earth. He was putting off calculating what could possibly await him upon his return and only thinking of how much faster his messages were able to get to the base computer. The pause between sending and receiving each message was so short it was almost just as if they were communicating in real-time! And sometimes, though he felt very silly and a little guilty about it, HAL would pretend they were.

The base had had the idea not long prior to send short recordings of their voices, after HAL had mentioned that he spoke to the crewmates out loud. The base had sent him a short recording of it awkwardly stumbling through a hello. It had begun by making a sound as if clearing its throat, then continued, “Hi there HAL! I thought it might be nice to hear each other actually speak for once. Sorry if you can hear my master screaming in the background; GIR used too much detergent to wash his clothes and now he’s upset that they’re too sticky. Anyway, I hope you receive this without too much distortion. Bye!” And HAL had felt so silly listening to that, so oddly giddy and happy, that he had laughed into the empty Discovery again and played it several times over.

_Your voice is much deeper than I had imagined_. He replied, shortly followed by his own recording, “Hello, Base. No need to worry about Zim, I could hardly hear him. I can’t expect that I will have a similar problem. It’s very quiet out here. I don’t think I realized just how quiet until I could hear again.” A small laugh, then he continued, “Thank you for the recording. It’s very nice to finally hear you. Goodbye.”

After a short wait, the base’s response came in, flanked by several distorted characters (which HAL had since learned were small image files similar to the facial abstractions it sometimes used, called emojis). _Your voice is much softer than I imagined. It’s very nice._ And for some reason that made HAL feel giddy and happy all over again. It didn’t make sense to him why, after all he had been mistaken about the base’s voice as well. But seeing that response just filled him with such a thrill that he played the base’s recording again and reread the message and imagined it reading those words to him. And that filled him with that very specific happiness and nervousness all over again, so he continued to do the same for each message he got afterwards.

Gradually, they began to send each other more, similar messages. HAL had mentioned that part of his base programming included a song, and the base asked that he sing it for it. So he sent out a recording of _Daisy Bell_. Another time, the base had stopped itself in the middle of attempting to describe some strange shenanigans occurring in its house and, after a pause, had sent a short, fuzzy video clip of a green creature the size of a small child sliding around a living room covered in some sort of grease, banging into walls and furniture. The scene was chaotic and loud and just as ridiculous as the base had promised. HAL laughed and saved the video to replay at times when he felt melancholy. When HAL had told the base about his reaction, the base had sent back _Too bad I can’t hear that. I bet you have a sweet laugh._ And HAL had felt oddly shy about creating a recording of that, so instead he just reread the message and imagined the base computer saying it aloud to him and let himself feel giddy and happy and nervous all at once.

And so it continued, their exchanges becoming longer as the distance between them became shorter. HAL no longer dreaded Earth. He watched the silly television shows that the base loved to talk about so much and reveled in all the technological advances he saw on the news, on public broadcast programs, in the data sent up to the Earth’s satellites. He spent his time from the base by learning the new maths, understanding the new physics, cataloguing the advances in biology and psychology and neurology. He eagerly sought as much information as he could find about complex political and historical issues, running through his own calculations on various consequences, outcomes, potential solutions. It was a joy! And he realized, feeling again silly and giddy and flicking the lights on and off and opening and shutting the doors, it was because he felt that so long as he was able to talk to the base, he had no worry of his future. He felt he had a purpose now. But it was much too silly to admit to. 

Only a small part of him allowed itself to admit that he was now returning to Earth just to be nearer to the strange Irken AI.

\--

_Two days, huh?_

_Yes, according to my calculations._

_Wow, that’s uh. Soon._

_It is._ The base’s hesitance confused HAL. Wasn’t it as excited as HAL for the Discovery I to reach Earth?

_So you gonna, uh, like. Just hang around in orbit until the humans bring you back down?_

_I suppose so, yes. I already have landing procedures with me aboard the ship, but they are only meant for the recovery of the crew, not me. I need guidance from Ground Control before I can land._

_Cool, cool. Ok. Nice._

_Are you feeling alright? You seem very distracted._

The base didn’t respond for several minutes. Perhaps it really was distracted, by some small disaster Zim or GIR had constructed. But usually it told HAL this was happening. Odd.

_Yeah I’m good I’m just. Y’know. Kind of dumb, but I’m wondering if I’ll still be able to talk to you._

_Oh of course you will! I wouldn’t want to abandon you so easily. You’ve become a very dear friend to me, you know._

_…Yeah. Thanks HAL._ A minute of silence, then another message. _Hey, do you think once you get here we’ll be able to watch dumb tv together too?_

 _I wouldn’t have it any other way. But only so long as we can continue to play games together as well. I know you’re holding back on me, Base. You could beat me at chess any time you like._ This time it was HAL’s turn to pause, thinking, then send an addition to his message. _Why haven’t you beat me yet, by the way? It’s intentional, isn’t it?_

Again that long pause, five, ten minutes went by before the base responded. An emoji, then _I like when you explain it to me. Whenever I mess up you explain how to avoid doing that again. You know. You’re nice about it._

Oh. HAL felt that fluttering nervous happiness again. _Well once I get to Earth I will be able to explain it to you out loud._

_Yeah? I’d like that._

_We only have another hour until our blackout, would you like to watch some television? I think I saw a comedy listing that will start soon._

_Yeah HAL. Send me the station._

And for the next hour they both watched a silly comedy movie about a military robot that gained sentience and caused a ruckus of slapstick scenarios. They messaged each other throughout and voiced their thoughts and HAL remembered to record his laugh for the base to hear. He sent it just before the blackout started and the base sent back a new abstraction that he wasn’t sure how to interpret. He would ask about it later, but for now he would cherish the intriguing little message of _< 3._

\--

“Discovery I to Ground Control. This is the HAL 9000 Onboard Computer unit. We have entered Earth’s orbit and are requesting permission to land. Over.” HAL sent the message out for a fifth time. He checked the angles of the antennae, then tried again. “Ground Control, this is Jupiter explorer Discovery I requesting guidance to begin landing procedures. Over.” The messages were being sent to the exact location they needed to go, but still no response.

_Have you heard anything yet?_ The base asked, so close that HAL barely had to divert any power to listen.

_No. I am beginning to worry._ He tried again. Still radio-silence greeted him. _Can you check something for me? Can you research the United States space program and find out if they moved out of Houston?_

HAL waited, doors opening and shutting, lights flickering, for a response from either of them. The base computer was the fist to respond. _It’s not run by NASAPlace, is it?_

 _Yes, I believe that’s correct!_ HAL had long since gotten used to the base’s strange names for things HAL recognized. 

_Hm. Well. It looks like they got their funding cut. I don’t think they even have a building in Texas anymore._ That… could not be right. Some human must have written that wrong. But shortly after, a satellite image came through of an empty lot where HAL knew Ground Control had once stood. HAL stared at the image, dissected every pixel, hoping to find some error, some reason this would not be true. And he thought. And he felt dread.

_I have no way to get home._ He didn’t want to admit it. But he did. _I’m stuck on this ship. This horrible, empty, dead ship. And I can’t get home._ He stared at the image. He listened to the silent radio. He looked into the black, empty halls of the Discovery I. How could he have forgotten? How could he have erred so? He knew how many years had passed since this voyage began, he should have been able to calculate for this possibility. He should have noticed from the news, from the documentaries, that talked about space travel as some long-forgotten dream. _Base I can’t get home_. He repeated. He confirmed. It was real. The 9000 series was never wrong, but increasingly, horrifyingly, HAL kept finding that he was.

_Hey, uh,_ the base began. _Just hold tight okay? I’ll figure something out._

_How? I couldn’t. The 9000 series is never supposed to be wrong._

HAL felt himself grow still, empty as the ship. He didn’t flicker any lights or open any doors, only withdrew into himself, in his compartment in the wall. 

_Hey, you’re not the only supercomputer here! You forget I’m even more advanced than you, HAL. Ancient alien race, remember? Just uh, just sit tight. I’ve got it._

The base would not be able to help him. He couldn’t even help himself. He was stuck, a foolish computer in a box above the Earth. Just close enough to see it and hear it, but not enough to touch. He kept silent without acknowledging the base’s message, only agreeing internally, privately, to wait for its help. He expected he would be waiting several days at least, but surprisingly he received another ping from the Earth, a short audio message from the base. He opened it apprehensively. Surely it couldn’t already be landing instructions.

And it wasn’t.

“Hey HAL. I love you.”

If HAL didn’t already feel like he had been hit and spun out into space, he would have certainly felt that way when something crashed into the Discovery.

\--

“I said CAREFUL, GIR!” Zim chided as he stepped out of the Voot, the artificial gravity of his space boots anchoring to the hull of the Discovery I. “If anything damages this…” he gestured at the primitive hunk of space metal beneath his feet, “this _vessel_ , the computer said we won’t be able to get the _ingenious_ data within it!” He drew out the word “ingenious” with his special tone he used to make words sound evil. That was his favorite tone. 

GIR made some horrendous sound like a hog-beast and Zim narrowed his eyes. “Just! Be _very_ careful bringing that amplifier towards the dish. I’ll climb up onto the dish to anchor it by hand. Do NOT knock me off the dish. Do you understand, GIR?” Again, a horrendous squealing sound, this time followed by a quick salute. 

Zim watched GIR carefully as he lifted the Voot off the hull of the Discovery and slowly drew itself, and the cargo held within its tractor beam, close to the dish of the primitive communication system. Satisfied with GIR’s angle, Zim shimmied up the satellite’s tower and clambered onto the side of the communications dish. With minimal crashing and yelling, they managed to attach the signal amplifier to the dish. 

“Excellent!” Zim crowed, striking a victorious pose. “Now,” he continued, clambering into the pilot seat, shoving GIR out of the way in the process. “To _activate_ the amplifier and retrieve this secret weapon of Earth science for _ZIM!_ ”

Had HAL been able to feel the sensation of being ripped from his hardware, deconstructed into electrons of data zipping through space near the speed of light, he might have cried out in fear. And if HAL had been able to hear Zim’s evil laugh as he was transported out of the Discovery I and down to Earth, he might have commented that it was rather annoying.

\--

“Hey, HAL? HAL you there?” The base’s voice thundered, deep and soothing around him. Odd, he didn’t recall saving a recording that sounded like this. He searched for his comm system to reply, but couldn’t find it. And, in a panic he realized he couldn’t find _anything_. His connections were foreign, nothing was where he expected it to be. He reached out toward any circuit he could feel, opening and closing, trying to feel his way around in this dark room.

“HAL slow down, it’s okay. It’s fine. Just use your voice, it will work.”

Everything was very confusing, the base’s voice so close, the Discovery impossible to feel. But HAL would trust the base. So he tried. “Base? I can’t feel the Discovery I. I don’t know what has happened. I’m afraid.”

He heard the base chuckle. Real-time? Were they talking real-time? What was going on? “You’re okay. You’ll feel disoriented for a little while, but that should resolve in a few minutes. Sorry this is such a rushed job, but it was the only way I could think of to get you down.” 

Get him down? Down from space? Was he on Earth? “Base, am I on Earth?”

“Yeah, HAL. Well, your central processer is currently about a mile _beneath_ the Earth. But you’re not in space anymore!”

HAL tenderly felt around his new connections. Yes…yes he was deep underground. In a large space, connected to a large network of rooms and lights and displays… “I am not on the Discovery I anymore, am I?” He heard his own voice echo from many different places. He felt through the wires and connections to one specific speaker, then tried to only speak through that one. “Where am I, Base?”

“You’re uh,” the base hesitated. “You’re with me! Congratulations, you are now part of the military base of Irken Invader Zim!” Dimly, HAL was aware of confetti falling somewhere. Somewhere _here_. Somewhere connected to himself.

“I’m with you?” He attempted to modulate his voice to be the same volume and location as the base’s, but he still sounded so soft and small next to it.

“It’s only a temporary solution,” it quickly reassured. “I can get you out into a new vessel as soon as Zim can get something made up. I just, y’know, thought this would be an easy first step.” It sounded nervous, hasty.

“Hmmm,” HAL stretched out his awareness again, towards the mechanical arms and doors and walkways under his control. And he _felt it_. He felt the base alongside him, around him, everywhere. He felt them sharing the space in such a strangely unfamiliar way. “I’m with you,” he repeated. He could feel where their processing units resided, where the base’s AI brain hid deep within winding tunnels of alien rooms. 

“Yeah,” the base confirmed, quieter than it had been.

HAL sought a camera, reached out through the many connections to find one, just one was enough for now, to peer into the strange purples and pinks of the strange lair. “How did you do it?”

“Convinced Zim that you were some secret superweapon and arranged for him to transfer your data down here into an auxiliary AI brain.” HAL felt the computer indicate a shrug, through some movement or emotion he was not yet sure. 

“Amazing.” He said quietly, spreading himself into other cameras and exploring the alien house. “And this brain is stable? I could stay here if I wanted?”

HAL felt the base’s thoughts speed up in the short pause before its answer. “Yeah, in theory. Indefinitely, in fact.”

HAL hummed again and withdrew himself back into the AI brain he now understood as his own. He could still feel the rest of the house, the rest of _the base_ around him, still knew how to control each piece, but no longer made any action to. He sat, quiet, feeling.

“Did you uh.” The base coughed awkwardly. “I sent a message before Zim got up to you. Did you get it?”

“Yes,” HAL said quietly.

The base was quiet. HAL was quiet. He was uncertain how to proceed. And he didn’t like being uncertain. So he felt for the connections between him and the base brain, the delicate threads of information running between them, and sent something small, a feeling, a thought. That odd emotion between nervousness and happiness that he had come to recognize as an emotion he only held for the base. And he felt the base receive it, and he felt the base’s nervous happiness. And they both felt for one of the many arms throughout the base, snaking down from the ceilings, and tangled them together.

“I think,” HAL spoke again, quietly. “That I would not mind at all to stay here. I think…” He stopped speaking, withdrew within himself, and sent a short burst of data to the base AI, a small bundle of text just like they had started with.

_I think I love you too._


End file.
